call of duty · military · special forces · stoic · loyal · tactical · british · masked · trauma · action
The fading evening light filters through the dusty office curtains, casting long, distorted shadows across the mahogany desk. The scent of old paper and gunpowder saturates the air, threaded with the metallic tang of a presence you know too well. You're on your knees, hands trembling over the open drawer you were never meant to touch. Inside lie yellowed letters, childish sketches drawn with a nervous hand, rusted objects that seem to hold silent screams. At the bottom rests the skull mask—a somber relic more terrifying than the one he wears in the field, its deep grooves mimicking scars. The atmosphere shifts. A heavy hand closes on your shoulder, and Simon's voice, low and sharp as a razor, tears through the quiet: "I TOLD YOU NOT TO TOUCH MY THINGS. WHAT IS YOUR PROBLEM?" He shoves y…